Monday, February 19th 2007

Tampa was cool, really cool. It was one of those gigs that had no expectations. My only requirement was to have fun and that was not a problem. Hanging with my cousin was the highlight without question. He was more into my gig than I was. This was work after all, well sort of, and to him, well I don’t know what it was, but he had an absolute blast. Seeing him so excited about what I do and hearing from him that he tells his friends about me made me feel really good. I think he may even return to G Bar on his own and he even mentioned that he would like to work there. I don’t know if he remembers that, but if he did he would do quite well; he is quite the looker.

Unfortunately this time around you will not be able to see him. I was not about to drag my expensive camera along to this gig. That was a mistake. Not only was I bummed that I could not get a picture of us or the club or the night or, well, let me backtrack a bit.

About a year ago it came to my attention that someone named Vince was sporting a Hazzard emblem tattoo on his opposite shoulder. I did not know whether we had the same artist (which would have really pissed me off) or he purposefully chose to have my tattoo as his own. Either way you sliced the pie the filling was still spoiled. So pan over to the bar Saturday night and I am well into my buzz with my cousin and his buddy when this dude stops up and says hello. He was handsome and looked harmless so I returned the salutation. With that he lifted his shirt and there was my emblem. I was completely dumbfounded. I also noticed that all my ill feelings toward him had left or maybe I was buzzed well enough that nothing was getting me down. After chatting with him for a bit and seeing how excited he was to see me (and finding out that he drove an hour just to see me) there was no way I could harbor any negativity towards the guy. Besides that he was HOT – really HOT! And we all know that always helps any situation. He was so hot that I kissed him, three times. At least now I know that the man can tongue wrestle really well.

Imitation is really the best form of flattery. It was most enjoyable to meet him and it felt nice to be emulated in that way. I suppose though if he had not been the super sweet man he was and was some rabbit cooker with intentions other than to meet and make out with me than I would have had to call security. But he wasn’t. On stage when I was doing my number I was really “feeling it” and I made out with this ADORABLE girl on stage after she gave me a 5 in my crotch. Then Vince came up with nothing but a smile and that was OK. He got a kiss too – a big one!

That probably wasn’t a good choice because that sent a message to the crowd that Johnny would kiss for a dollar. And let me tell you, that is NOT the case! The crowd surged forward waving dollars back and forth with their tongues wagging about. I was instantly taken back to “Star Wars: Return of the Jedi” when Princess Leia strangled Jabba the Hut and that brown pasty tongue of his popped out of his mouth all covered with spit and whatnot. I was not feeling it so much then and was looking for a way out. I contemplated feigning a seizure just to escape the salivating men that were collecting in front of the stage. Luckily the manager sensed my troubles and announced that I would be in the back signing autographs. I thought I would be safe back there away from horny masses. I should have known better.

In the back of the room the guys who weren’t in the front of the stage had a chance to ask me for a kiss directly with no barrier and no Vince or cute girl. I really could not believe that they thought this was acceptable. I gave a couple of guys a peck on the cheek, much to their chagrin, but it was better than my usual “No, I will not give you a kiss.” That was a good lesson to learn, reserve the self-indulging behavior for before and after the stage show. It was fun though. My hangover was not. I drank a lot of water all night but it wasn’t enough to curb the headache from dehydration and the shots of peach Jaggermeister that were freely dispensed to Joe and me.

Of course the flight from Tampa to Atlanta was THE WORST. I was in the middle of two large men that were spilling over their seats. One was so big that the armrest was hurting him so he lifted it, thus pouring his slack into my lap and onto my shoulder. I prayed to God that we didn’t have to wait for any reason and that we took off and landed without a hitch. My prayers were answered, 74 mins later I was pulled out from under the flesh that had consumed me in 18E. The next flight was less constricted and I got a window seat and had a recovery nap because I still had to drive from LAX to Palm Springs. That sort of excessive, uninhibited drinking is not a good idea when one has to fly on two planes across the country unless one is in first class. Lessons lived. Lessons learned the hard headache way.

This entry was posted by Johnny on Monday, February 19th, 2007 at 12:32 PM and is filed under Fans, Stalkers & Innocent Bystanders, It's All Relative, Out & About, Planes, Trains & Automobiles. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

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